


Hold Up

by TheAllonsyGirl



Series: Companion Confusion [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Bank Robbery, Doctor/Companion Friendship, F/M, Heist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAllonsyGirl/pseuds/TheAllonsyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Twelfth Doctor decides it's time to visit a long lost companion of his in the shape of Agatha Christie. There has also been a mysterious spate of bank robberies across the United States with no resolution. Only gold bars and gold coins are being taken  and the Doctor wants to know why. Can he solve another mystery with his writing genius companion, or will it all end in tears?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Up

9:37AM Thursday 18th of April 1940.

The Doctor muttered away to himself as he contemplated his reconnaissance mission; he'd decided it was time to visit an old friend. He felt a bittersweet sensation as each name flipped forward in the Rolodex of his mind; each figure of history he'd visited had been shared amongst some of the greatest people he'd ever known; his companions. He stood in the vast console room which in itself seemed strange to him. Its interior had become gloomy and forboding with very little adornments. This both pleased and depressed him; his new face and mannerisms were drawn to the darkness and the sweetness and malice it held, but the remnants of his former whimsy yearned for the light and the vibrancy that his existence had once been not all that long ago. 

"Agatha Christie," he mumbled away to himself contemplating visiting the literary genius. He'd met her once before when he was younger, sprightlier, and more than a little curious about absolutely everything. He'd been smug in the realisation that he'd solved the mystery of her disappearance; a mystery that had for the longest time plagued the reading population of Britain. 

"She won't remember a thing," he sighed drearily and chewed the corner of his cheek a little sadly; it reminded him of someone else who didn't remember, and it still hurt. Nonetheless he plucked a year out of his mind; a nice round number and calmly set the TARDIS co-ordinates. 

"1940. A good year, all things considered," he laughed bitterly as he recalled the atrocities of World War II; he stopped himself in his tracks before he allowed his mind to wander back farther to another war he could never forget; now was most definitely not the time. He set the coordinates and gripped the metal support beam beside him; he'd managed to get the TARDIS flight pattern to be much more peaceful than in the years prior. Unless there was cause for discord it was plain sailing. As the TARDIS drifted through the time vortex he allowed his mind to wander. When the journey ceased he was still lost in his thoughts. 

"Oh. Times like this I really miss having a companion about the place," he mumbled and straightened his crombie coat before heading out into the new air. Chicago was the same vibrant metropolis he remembered but at the same time it was stark in contrast to his last visit in 1890. The Doctor had always found Illinois as a whole too block-like. Its sky scraper buildings were too tall and too cuboid-like for his tastes; he'd never been one for clean lines. He liked things to be daring and abstract; at least this version of him saw things in this light. He'd pinpointed Agatha near enough to the exact location he was stood; he also knew that the TARDIS had a tendency to be a little off. He knew this was the year she'd visited the city for a holiday and he hoped that he would be able to find her. 

He strolled towards the hub of shops in the central area and he considered what he knew about Agatha Christie; she was a writer, she had briefly been a smoker, she loved her coffee. He decided it would be beneficial to check the local tobacconists and coffee houses as a good start; writers and coffee houses had become synonymous to the Doctor and to most laypeople by this stage.  
He stuck his head into many of the local tobacco merchants, and even asked around. He'd received many looks of confusion and some of admiration for his out of fashion clothes; he'd not considered changing for the time period; he had little time or patience for such trivial nonsense. 

"You! Yes you! I'm looking for the writer Agatha Christie; have you seen her around here?" he scowled at the youngish man he'd pulled up on his pursuit.

"Uh no sorry buddy. You might wanna go back home; she's British you know," the man patted him on the shoulder.

"Yes I know that you stu--" he growled and threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Planet of the pudding brains!" he mumbled and continued on. He reached a quaint-looking coffee shop with three glass and iron tables outside. As his level of patience lowered he pushed open the coffee-house door; his diligence had paid off. He scanned the small surface area and took a double take as he clocked a petite woman beside the window box which was filled with petunias and bluebells. 

It was her by all accounts; Agatha Christie in all of her glory. Her hair was coiffed into the glossy and sculped waves he remembered, although the angelic blonde she had sported back in 1926 was now a shock of molten chocolate brown. She got up to pluck a newspaper from the dispenser and returned to her table. She stood taller than he remembered her to be and her figure was swathed perfectly by the latest fashions to take 1940 by storm. Her dress was a deep forest green with delicate black piping around the capped sleeves. The diamond keyhole cut was modest and unrevealing. It cinched at the waist stopping about knee level. He wondered how she managed to walk in such back-breaking heels. They must have been at least five inches and their black material reflected the light from above. 

Rather than expose her for the age she really was, the outfit shed many years from her in every aspect. She was perched elegantly on an ornate brown chair with a cigarette in between her fingers. Her small white cup indicated that she had ordered and was drinking a rich and for the time rather expensive coffee. Her fingers gently traced the monochrome pages of The Chicago Defender. The Doctor squinted a little to see the main headline as she turned the page;

'PNC BANK THIEVES STILL AT LARGE'

The Doctor nodded only to himself and rubbed his chin; he remembered this year now his memory had been jogged. A merry band of six robbers had been routinely clearing out banks all across America but had never been apprehended. He'd always had it on his agenda to do something about it but traveling in time and space was infinitely a distracting and demanding endeavour. She drew from the cigarette and toxic tendrils of smoke drifted in a sultry manner from her lips. She grimaced and docked the remaining quarter of the cigarette into the pewter ashtray upon the table. She picked up the coffee cup from its saucer and sipped to clear the taste and her little finger stuck out as she gracefully did so. 

The Doctor stepped closer with his hands out in front of him. 

"Agatha?" he uttered the word almost sternly and her head rose lazily to observe him. 

"Yes? Do I know you?" she looked serene and radiant; such a stark contrast to the last time they'd met. She had managed to lose the wounded, battle-worn look she'd held within her whole being in the respectively to her; fourteen years he'd been away. The Doctor pulled his eyebrows into a knitted frown. 

"You wouldn't recognise me now but we met once before about fourteen years ago," he said about although he knew to the day exactly how long it had been; it was a small enough detail that it didn't matter much. His eyes became a little less steely and calculated as he recalled the fondness of his previous encounter with her, regardless of the circumstance in which they had found themselves. 

"I'm afraid I don't remember. That year was quite extraordinary; you would never believe me if I were to tell you. Was it at a publicity event? Book signing? Although I'm not sure my books are really as good as what they are perceived to be; it's dizzying some of the things they say. Oh look at me chattering away and I didn't even give you a chance to tell me your name," her eyes were kind and welcoming and he almost felt a smile creep onto his lips. He shook it off and cleared his throat even though his voice would still come out gruff regardless. 

"I'm the Doctor," he took a few steps closer and he saw what appeared to be a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. 

"Don't be absurd. He was...that man was impossible; I can't tell you what he looked like aside from...taller, his suit was brown...maybe; my memory isn't what it was back then. His voice too; he was English, well-spoken. You simply can't be the same man. I often wonder whether what I remember was merely a dream so splendid yet terrifying in nature, or whether I truly experienced such a bizarre series of events." she tossed her newspaper onto the pile of papers on the counter nearby. The Doctor allowed himself to sit opposite her at the small table and he clasped his hands together. 

"I'm completely impossible, absurd, and very much the same man; not that I expect you to believe me but I know things only I could know about that day. Do you remember the Unicorn? The wasp? Something must be in there about that day; it has to be," he willed it to be true and he knew it to be somewhat factual as she had written a book around those very same events. 

"I'm afraid not; I have hazy memories of what you speak but I'm not a detective not really; I simply tell tall tales of the cruelty, greed and travesty of the human life," she smiled ever so subtly. 

"You're just a purveyor of nonsense," he added with a smile and she froze a little at his words; her words. 

"How could you possibly know those words? I said them to...him; whomever he truly was," she struggled to take herself back there and see the events of that day. She tried to drag the image of the Doctor to her mind as she layered years upon him; fighting ever which way to deduce if this man could have aged in such a way as to appear as the ragged and stern man she now conversed with. She saw no conceivable way for it to be so and she swept a loose piece of hair back up into her otherwise immaculate hair style. 

"I survived cyanide poisoning remember?" he smirked which looked a little strange on his stern face. Agatha blinked her well made-up eyes and her mouth gaped slightly in an attempt to find the words to address such an anomaly. 

"Doctor you're..." he cut her off in her speech.

"Impossible? Yes there is that. Maybe it's time I told you the truth," he held out a hand to her and she stared at it for a moment before taking it. She grabbed up her purse with her other hand and followed him out of the door. She watched him curiously as he led the way to a curious-looking blue box. She'd never seen anything like it and she was certain the police had never implemented such a thing.

"How peculiar!" she exclaimed and reached out a manicured hand to stroke the blue-hued wood gently. "Where on Earth did you get this? It's extraordinary!" she continued to wax lyrical over the discovery. 

"It's a police public call box; they started using them around 1960," he added and waited for the obvious derision that was coming is way.

"Don't talk nonsense; it's 1940," she dismissed his absurdity with her hand and pulled at the brass door handle and it jarred in her hand. The Doctor shooed her aside and placed the small key into the lock and it clicked in submission. He indicated that she should step inside with his hand. She pushed it and stepped onto the iron grated floor. She gasped and rushed a little further in. The Doctor awaited the ever-tiresome comment about the bigger on the inside concept of the TARDIS with an involuntary eye roll. 

"It's positively dimensionally transcendental!" she turned to him and laughed in awe of it all. She placed a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. 

"I should have known you'd have a more poetic way of saying it," he almost laughed. 

"How did you do it? I said this before and I'll say it once more for your benefit; it's all smoke and mirrors no matter what the trickery," she looked around the room once again as she waited for a response.  
"I'm a Time-Lord; I can travel in time and space. This machine is called the TARDIS; it's a time machine. I could tell you a long and tedious story about the origins of my kind but that would take up time we really don't have," he wasn't sure if that was particularly true or whether he just didn't want to reignite the still-painful memories. 

"You speak such utter nonsense Doctor! There's no such thing as time travel; truly you're completely potty!" she shook her head and leant against the TARDIS console which proceeded to hum softly in the subtle glow of the gloom. 

"You've seen an alien yet you still deny it exists? Human beings can be so wonderfully ignorant sometimes; no offence to your kind but when it is right in front of you you just can't believe it! It's a phenomenon I never could bring myself to accept," he shook his head and brought his thick eyebrows into their usual knitted frown. Agatha's eyes bored into his for many seconds before she spoke again.

"You're of another world? How extraordinary!" she spoke softly and with doubt meandering through her words. The Doctor merely nodded and joined her at the TARDIS console before changing the subject in a complete U-turn.

"You helped me once and if memory serves me correctly you were more than competent in a crisis. What do you know about these bank heists? " he pulled out his chalk board from beneath the console and placed it upon its easel. He plucked the chalk from its perch and poised it above the black canvas. 

"Heists? Oh, nothing much; only whatever the papers choose to display of course. It was on the front page again today," she cast her mind back to the article and plucked out the most relevant details.

"Six men have been going from state to state and holding up the biggest banks in the cities it seems; they've been clearing out the gold. No currency in the form of notes but any and all gold coins and great big bars of solid gold. They've breached every security measure that the banks have had. They've never been apprehended. It's fascinating! I'd very much like to write a book of such a tale; I heard about it when I was back home and I saw an opportunity to research it a lot more on my holiday; not what most people would place upon their holiday itinerary I'm quite sure," the Doctor's chalk scrabbled frantically as she was talking and his mind began to work at a speed scientists could only dream about. 

"Yes, yes I know all of that already but I suppose it's good to get it up on the board," he sighed impatiently. 

"Doctor what on Earth are you doing? How is this going to change anything? What are you planning? More to the point what do you need me for?" she peered over his shoulder and took in the barrage of words he'd written. 

"I love a challenge Agatha. I also like it when the bad guys lose so we're going to put a stop to this merry band of fools once and for all. Where is the nearest bank that hasn't already been hit?" he whipped around clicking his fingers at her to jog her memory into a quicker sprint. 

"Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago would be my estimate; it's large and a big risk but they store the largest amount of gold in their vault I'd imagine. If seventeen state police forces and detective agencies haven't been able to stop them, what on Earth makes you think we can?" she shrugged to emphasise her words. 

"Ah but those agencies and forces were sorely lacking in one thing they needed to get the job done," the Doctor dropped his chalk back into its home with a triumphant motion and his eyes glittered with glee. 

"And what might that be?" Agatha raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Me," the Doctor's arrogance may have subsided since his tenth regeneration but it still lingered within him and occasionally upon his face. Agatha smiled and laughed shortly. 

"Man or alien do you really think you can best criminal masterminds?" she pulled her dress strap back over her shoulder as she spoke. 

"I've been doing it for one thousand two hundred years and I have no intention of being bested by petty criminals now," he summoned her to follow him with his index finger and she trotted behind him to keep up as he strode out of the door.  
"How far is the Federal Reserve from here?" he called back to her without looking behind. 

"About two miles I suppose," she shrugged and carried on behind him.

"Do you have a car?" he stopped and she walked into the back of him at the sudden halt. 

"Yes my Crown Imperial is right over there," she pointed across the street to a deep blue car and he locked onto it. 

"Right! On we go then," he made a beeline for the car and Agatha fumbled in her purse for the keys. She unlocked the door and the Doctor jumped into the passenger side. 

"Did you buy this here? It's an American car, yes?" he frowned and stroked the cream interior as he climbed into what would be the driver's side in an English model.

"Yes I plan to have it shipped back to London when my holiday is over. I've always wanted an extravagant car so I decided to purchase a high end one whilst I was here," she smiled and turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred gently. She pulled out the map guide she'd purchased earlier that week and gently threw it to the Doctor who caught it. He stared at it as if she'd passed him an explosive device and he opened it up. 

"What do I need this for?" he frowned and delved into his pockets before pulling out a small satellite navigation device and placing it on the dashboard. He quickly tapped in the location and the internal automated voice began to direct the way forward. 

"What on Earth is that contraption?" she looked at it and probed at it with her finger.

"It's...not of this world; don't worry it's not dangerous. It does get me out of orienteering thus it is the craft of Gods," he smirked bitterly and threw the map into the back seat as if it were a distasteful object. 

"I wonder if these will ever be available for commercial purpose," she mused as she followed the demands of the computerised map. 

"Time will tell," the Doctor tapped his nose knowingly; he knew that the life of Agatha Christie would expire before Sat Nav came into existence but he wanted to leave something of a mystery with her; for irony's sake. As they pulled up at the bank the Doctor wound down the window and stuck his head out. He sniffed the air and pulled his head back in; he swore there was something nearby that was not human but he couldn't be certain of it.

"This is surely absurd Doctor; we have no idea when they'll strike," Agatha wound down the window and opened her purse to pull out a cigarette. She lit it and took a deep drag of it; it caused her to cough and the Doctor turned to glare at her; he'd never been a fan of the idle and toxic habit. 

"Of course we do because we know one very important thing my dear; thieves are stupid. They get restless and greedy and when they get restless and greedy they get careless, and when they get careless they make mistakes, and when they make mistakes we catch them. Like cat and mouse," he smiled knowingly and with a slight malevolence. 

"Case in point," he jumped out of the car put both hands on his hips. Agatha frowned and crushed her cigarette in the car's ashtray. She climbed out and closed the door. 

"What do you mean?" she joined him where he stood and followed his eye line. 

"Look at the door; one, two, three, four, five, six," he spoke smugly and once again summoned her to fall in behind him as they crossed the fairly quiet street. The Federal Reserve Bank was monumental in its size and grandeur; the white pillars alone were statement enough to its stance of power. The Doctor held his hand out behind him to keep her at a safer distance should anything go wrong and he pulled the large brass door handle. As he entered he guided Agatha towards the reception desk as quietly and slowly as was possible; he could clock three of the men in the lobby, one up above, and he imagined the remaining two were by the vault attempting to blow it to smithereens. 

No sooner had they reached the desk a full force knocked them down behind it. Their shouted warnings were just in time.

"Stay down!" seconds after the American man's warning had hit them a large explosion rumbled through the ground. The Doctor's ears began to ring and he turned to Agatha; her hands covered her ears but she was intact. The Doctor looked up and was about to express his gratitude to their benefactor but he was stopped in his tracks when he saw the tall, dark-haired stranger with the easy smile; he wasn't a stranger at all.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he uttered almost in disbelief. He drew closer to examine his features; he hadn't changed a bit unless perhaps he'd got himself a new weapon. 

"Yes sir, have we met? I feel like I'd remember such a dashing and distinguished gentleman," he held out his hands and smiled that same charming and easy smile he always did; he was relentless. 

"Oh do stop!" the Doctor chided and pulled out his sonic screwdriver as his only means of identity; words were no longer needed. 

"Doctor! Wow it's been so long; you're Scottish now!" Jack was thrilled to be reunited with him but the Doctor didn't seem so keen. 

"Very well observed; no wonder they have you running Torchwood. Now what did I tell you about time travel?" as he had done many years ago he disabled Jack's vortex manipulator and whispered gruffly. 

"What are you doing here? I didn't think bank robberies were your niche," he spoke with glib undertones and Jack smirked.

"I'm doing some intel for Torchwood; we're thinking that these people aren't in control of themselves. We've been doing some research and there's about eighty species we know of that use mind control or outright possession to gain something," he turned and did a double take as he saw Agatha beside the Doctor.

"Well hello there, I don't think we've met; Captain Jack Harkness," he held out his hand to her but it was promptly swatted away by the Doctor.

"I really don't think now is a good time for one of your...love trysts Jack," he snapped as his voice grew just above a whisper.

"It's always a good time for that; you are striking I must say," Agatha's cheeks blanched a little and she turned away; the absurdity of the situation had caused her to be positively giddy. She gasped and shuffled back as a lumbering black-clothed figure pushed the tip of a Colt special to the back of Jack's head. The ski mask that covered his face bunched around his eyes causing him to look a little like a deranged skeleton. Jack held his hands up.  
"Take it easy buddy; you're in charge here. No one's gonna try anything," a smile crept onto his face as he had no reason whatsoever to be scared; as long as the gun remained pointed at him. Jack was no longer afraid of death because it was impossible and unreachable to him; even separating his body after death did not prevent his resurrection. He inadvertently had the Doctor and Rose to blame for that but he rarely minded; it meant he could save many lives in his pursuit of his endgame. 

Agatha was not aware of Jack's immortal status however and had the Doctor not whispered a subtle word in her ear; she most likely would have attempted to be a hero. For what it was worth; Agatha Christie was kind-hearted. 

"That's right. So listen up; you're gonna get up and walk to that room over there with no funny business. All of you. Move!" he nudged Jack's head with the gun as Agatha and the Doctor rose to their feet with their hands up. The Doctor looked as dour as ever as he relinquished control to a human being.

They were herded into the back room and as the door slammed behind them they heard the muffled grumbles of their captor. 

"If you even look through the keyhole I'll blow a hole in your face," he growled and presumably kicked the door. Jack offered up a rude gesture up to the door and the Doctor rolled his eyes. Agatha chuckled under her breath. 

"I suppose we'd better get comfortable then; what a nuisance," she leaned against the back wall with her arm rested upon the cash register. 

"Well there's that option or this one," Jack held up a larger gun that the Doctor recognised to be the squareness gun. 

"Unlike you Jack, some of us like our faces still attached," the Doctor smiled with disdain. 

"Do either of you have a plan?" Agatha asked as she slipped off her heels and rubbed her feet. 

"Be quiet!" the man outside screeched as he hammered on the door. The alarms were ringing out through the bank and they collided with the screams in the air. They could hear orders being barked at innocent hostages and the Doctor pitied them. 

Jack held his fingers up to his lips to silence everyone as he pointed his squareness gun at the wall. He silently edged them to one side with a gesture and the gun sprang into action. A six by six square of wall dissolved in front of them and Agatha's eyes widened. 

"What on Earth...?" she mouthed. The Doctor hurried her forward and indicated he'd explain later. He patted Jack on the back and one by one they scrambled through the hole. Jack sealed it up behind them and looked around. Red alarm lights were sweeping through the hallways and they pushed themselves up against a wall as two men bolted past them. 

The Doctor could see they had large ski bags behind them being towed. They yelled to each other about their escape route and when they were sure they had passed the Doctor exhaled sharply. 

"I need to see that vault," he said matter of factly and wandered towards it without giving the others much choice except to follow him. 

"Uh I'm pretty sure it's empty now Doc, you missed your chance," Jack smirked but it faded under the withering look the Doctor shot his way. The Doctor took two steps into the vault and he stopped. 

"Well then. It looks like we've got work to do," he smiled as the glint returned to his eye.


End file.
